


Pok's Sansgore Week 2018 Challenge

by Pokerel



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Sansgore Week 2018, any typos are on me btw, day 2: unsanitary cw & near death experience, day 7: implied mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-14 00:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15376446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokerel/pseuds/Pokerel
Summary: Day 1: FluffDay 2: Hurt/ComfortDay 3: AUDay 4: Sansgore with supportive Toriel, Papyrus and/or FriskDay 5: Hanging with the main castDay 6: WeddingDay 7: Fankid





	1. Fluff

**Author's Note:**

> Help me, I've fallen into rarepair hell.

"asgore."

Asgore felt a bony elbow brush along his side, before a hand slipped into his.

"What is it, dear?"

Sans laughed lightly. Nervously?

"your bush is trying to invade my room."

Asgore had a good idea which bush Sans was referring to. It was one of the tougher varieties of rose, that Undyne had bought him in a display of thoughtfulness. Personally, he thought it complemented the house quite well, having dark red flowers that went well with the paint job.

"stop laughing, fluffybuns. you don't know what it's like to wake up with a plant in your face."

He did, actually. Flowey had woken him up at least twice this week, both times slipping away before Asgore could react. Since Sans had (reluctantly) let the flower monster into the house, Flowey had been taking advantage of this new freedom. Asgore smiled sadly, recalling how Chara had done the same, long ago. Testing boundaries like a sore tooth.

And with the upwelling memory came a familiar sadness borne of loss. He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

"I'll see what I can do," he promised instead, letting Sans lead the way.

* * *

Asgore stared in horror at the plant that was shoving its way through the window. And some mild amusement. He had assumed that Sans was being dramatic as usual, but the extremely obvious evidence proved his claim.

"what _have_ you been feeding that thing?" Sans called from the safety of the doorway.

Besides the usual? Nothing he could think of, beyond the occasional spritz of water the dry weather called for.

Asgore squinted at the lone rose blooming at the end of the branch in a mocking display of victory.

"It likes you," he commented dryly.

"the feeling's not mutual!"

The plant had somehow managed to wedge itself through the open window, the sliding frame kept from closing by the twisting brambles. An impressive feat.

He patted the rose gently.

"can you do that flamethrower thing? pleeease?"


	2. Hurt/Comfort

Asgore was jolted out of his reverie by shouting, instinctively turning away from the flowers to look at the direction of the house.

The noise in itself was not unusual, given that both Papyrus and Undyne lived here.

That, however, had not sounded like either of the two monsters.

_Sans._

Asgore quickly put down his shears, moving with great haste towards the source of the sound.

"Sans!"

The skeleton monster lit up as Asgore entered the kitchen.

"oh shit, you gotta help me-"

He was holding his left hand to his chest.

It was _dusting_.

Already, the front of his shorts was covered in grey powder.

Asgore quickly CHECKed Sans, before concentrating on healing his hand. With the skeleton monster's low health, any injury could turn life-threatening in a matter of minutes if left untreated.

Healing was a simple process, but not always an easy one. Though Asgore had some experience, it had always come more easily to Toriel. Regardless, Sans needed his help urgently, so he channeled all the affection and respect he felt for the smaller monster into his magic.

Already the dust had slowed to a trickle. It was unpleasant against his paw, but he dared not let go. Asgore continued funneling in magic with healing intent until Sans patted his arm with his free hand.

"there, all better."

It was far from 'all better'. Though it was no longer disintegrating, there were still scars left from the loss of matter. Those would take longer to fully heal.

Asgore leaned against the counter and sighed in relief.

"Stars, Sans. You had me worried. What were you doing in here, anyway?"

"what, can't a guy bake in peace?"

In the rush to ensure Sans was okay, Asgore managed to miss the empty mixing bowl, the containers, and most importantly the pie sitting in the middle. He winced, noticing that Sans had neglected to use a cooling rack.

He gave Sans a questioning look. Sans nodded in confirmation. 

"got the recipe from tori."

"I was surprised you didn't ask for her help."

Sans shrugged, responding with an "it's a school day." A roundabout not-answer. Asgore wasn't sure what he was expecting.

"May I?"

Sans gestured at the pie, so the boss monster moved to cut out a slice. As he raised it, he noticed the thin layer of dust fuzzed on the edge.

"ah, give me that one." Sans had noticed it too.

"You cut yourself on _baking paper?_ "

Sans neither confirmed nor denied this, continuing to make a grabbing motion at the pie. Asgore obliged, but not before sneaking a pinch of it between index finger and thumb.

And promptly spat it out.

"yeah, it's that experimental ketchup pie. must've forgotten to mention that."

Sans' eyelights, bright with amusement, betrayed that last statement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No betas, we go down like men.


	3. AU (Underfell)

Sans was reaching towards what would have been his fourth bottle of mustard this evening before Grillby decided to cut him off with a warning flare. The fire left a scorch mark on the wooden surface, which he glared at, before turning his gaze on the skeleton himself.

Sans snatched his hand back, baring his teeth at the bartender.

"Pay up," the flame crackled, amused.

"wha- you can't just do that!"

"My bar, my rules," he hissed, and watched as Sans ruefully withdrew his hand, eyes not leaving the yellow bottle.

He decided to leave it on the counter out of spite.

Sans stared at it.

Grillby sensed a joke coming.

"don't all fired up about that."

And there it was.

"That was bad, even for you."

"i live ta disappoint."

Sans lapsed into silence, absently rubbing his collar bone. It was the same sport where he'd been sporting a nasty burn for some time.

Grillby tried to recall what happened, that resulted in the injury.

Ah, yes. Sans had managed to antagonise the dread king Asgore, right to the tyrant's face. It was a surprise that he had _survived._

"Are you and the mad king..." Grillby trailed off, unsure how to complete that sentence.

Sans barked out a sharp laugh in his face.

"yeah, the situation became a little heated. i goat it under control, though."

"Really." Grillby leaned over the bar. "Do tell."

"well, he's just an old goa-"

"It is rude to speak ill of an absent party."

In this moment, the only sound in Grillby's was a quiet 'oh crap' from the skeleton at the bar, before Sans snapped around to look at the door. In his haste, he overbalanced, bony butt hitting the floor with a clatter.

Everyone's eyes were on him now, including Asgore's. Grillby felt genuine pity for Sans, tempered by the knowledge that if anything happened it was his own fault, really.

Asgore met Sans' gaze for a long moment, before turning and leaving, not bothering to close the door. A clear signal to follow.

"Good luck, pup," one of the Dogi whispered.

Sans slunk off, swiping the mustard in the process.

Grillby made no move to stop him.

* * *

Asgore was already standing by the withered tree, waiting. Sans jogged over.

"I have informed your brother," he responded to the unasked question.

Which was far from the actual question on Sans' mind right now.

Of course, he didn't raise it directly. Nobody questioned the king and lived. It didn't take a genius to know this.

"you don't hafta do that."

"Yes, I do not." His pace did not slow, forcing Sans to speed up.

"they're gunna ask questions."

"Let them."

Sans sighed, resigned.

"yer a real piece 'a work, y'know that?"

"Yes, a certain inhabitant of the Ruins would agree with you on that point." And Asgore was looking far too pleased with himself, for having dropped such a large bombshell. (Then again, who ever knew what went on under those wicked horns of his?)

Sans stared up at him.

"whu?" How had he found out? What was Asgore planning?

"Old I may be, but I am far from a fool. Our mutual acquaintance may think herself clever, holing herself away..."

"sire?!"

Asgore had furrowed his brows, deep in thought. And then,

"Sans. May I entrust you with this?"

"i don't understand-"

"Whatever she wants. You will listen."

"but!" Asgore's tone brooked no argument, and his death stare made Sans shut his mouth with a click, clenching his teeth instead.

He wanted to lash out, to scream, to maim. He was such an _idiot._

Asgore's paw came down on his skull, gentler than he thought possible, bringing his inner conflict to a screeching halt.

"Sans, this has nothing to do with romance. However, it has everything to do with the kingdom. _I trust your judgement."_

'Trust.' Nobody used that word. Ever.

"a poor decision, really," Sans responded, slipping back behind the mask that was his devil-may-care facade, ignoring the part of him that was screaming.

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse.


	4. Supportive Papyrus (and even more aggressively supportive Undyne)

The repetitive knocking of the door clued Asgore in on the identity of his visitor, even before he heard the loud voice.

"May I come in, your majesty?"

"Howdy, Papyrus."

Asgore held the door open and stepped aside, allowing the skeleton to enter the house.

Was that a spade?

Papyrus didn't sit down, instead standing awkwardly in the center of the room. Under Asgore's gaze, the skeleton began to fidget.

"I do not have an ulterior motive!!!"

Asgore winced as Papyrus' voice crept upwards towards a shout. Shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears.

"I see."

"Yes!" Papyrus brandished the spade in his direction, like a sword. A sword that was especially short, and blunted to the point of ineffectiveness.

"I am here... to talk to you regarding your relationship with my brother!"

Oh dear.

Papyrus put his hands on his hips.

"It has come to my attention that you are courting Sans, yes?"

Asgore blinked. "We haven't made that official yet."

"Regardless! As a good sibling it is my job to ensure Sans' wellbeing!!! So, your majesty, if you ever... hurt... Sans..."

He trailed off, suddenly unsure, but Asgore got the message.

"I would never harm him, intentionally or otherwise. I am sure he appreciates the concern."

Papyrus' face lit up like a child's on Gyftmas. Asgore coughed into his paw, suddenly flustered.

"What's with the spade?"

"The shovel talk was Undyne's idea," he admitted. "She even got us matching shovels for the occasion."

At Asgore's puzzled look, Papyrus elaborated.

"She was exploring the human interwebs for advice. I wasn't aware humans had such interesting and diverse traditions! Customs such as terrorizing their relatives' datemates! Which involves gifting shovel for some reason...?"

He looked down at the shovel across his lap. Plucked it up and presented it to Asgore with both hands.

"Here, please accept this token of appreciation!"

Asgore took it with a bemused smile. "Why, thank you-"

"Consider yourself terrorized! Friendship is a daunting prospect!"

Asgore inspected the spade, noting the angry face drawn on the reverse surface in sharpie.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," he told Papyrus, who nodded, satisfied.

"Unfortunately! The dating manual could not offer guidance on how super cool relatives can offer support."

Papyrus pulled out a worn book, thrusting it at Asgore. Curious, Asgore flipped through it. Hm.

"I'm so happy for you two!!!"

"Thank you," Asgore responded sincerely. "However-"

He was interrupted for the second time, this time by the ringing of a phone.

Papyrus took the call where he stood, while Asgore couldn't help but listen in.

There didn't seem to be much listening in to do, though.

"Sans, did you buttdial me again? Skeletons don't even have butts???"

Asgore could hear crashing from the other end of the call, followed by Sans saying something indistinct.

"How did you and Undyne even get stuck on the ceiling?? Never mind. I'll be right over!"

He hung up, before turning to Asgore, an unhappy look on his face.

"It seems Sans did not appreciate his gift."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "YOU WILL TAKE THE SHOVEL AND YOU WILL CHERISH IT."


	5. Day 7: Fankid

Was that spaghetti she smelled?

Neue hopped off her bed, following the smell of her uncle's cooking, tail already wagging in anticipation.

"Look who's up!" She heard Asgore first, her dad's laugh booming across the house.

"hey, kiddo." Sans was at the table too. He thrust a plate into her hands.

"Thanks, pops."

She slid into her regular seat, picking up the spoon.

"you're scheduled for a check-up today," Sans reminded her.

She poked at her food in silence, before taking a sullen mouthful.

"Papa, you know I detest them."

"yeah, me too."

The conversation lapsed into an uneasy silence after, air heavy with an unspoken weight. Even Papyrus, for all of the tall skeleton's usual cheer, decided to remain silent, a rare phenomenon indeed.

After roughly ten minutes of stewing in silence, Neue couldn't take it. She got up, and left, the spagetti only half touched.

* * *

The baby definitely took after Asgore, though she did had skeletal features, mainly around her chest and legs. Toriel handed her off to Asgore, watching as tears welled up in his eyes.

"thank _fuck_ it's over."

Sans' eyelights were dimmed, and he let his hand drop from Asgore's arm. Toriel quickly checked. Yes, there were definitely imprints.

Asgore cooed over the kid, trying to coax her into responding. He received a startled bleat.

"Feed her as soon as possible. Keep her dry and warm, or she may catch a chill. Keep a close eye on her." Toriel glared at Asgore, before her gaze softened. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Tori," he replied, embarrassed.

"hey, i did all the work here!"

Asgore laughed, before passing their child to Sans, whose soul melted instantly. She was perfect.

"What are you naming her?"

"neue."

"Neue? That's a beautiful name."

"to be honest, i panicked because i couldn't think of anything but didn't want to let asgore name her."

Neue let out another bleat.

"That is fair." Toriel opened the door. "I'll leave you two to it."

* * *

"zilch. zip. nada."

Toriel heard her friend before she saw him, shuffling up to her with dim eyelights, tone upset. Things hadn't been looking up for Neue, multiple checks yielding the same result.

Neue hadn't opened her eyes by the time they eventually left the hospital, which was cause for concern. 'Give her time,' Sans had suggested. 'Is this a skeleton thing?' Asgore had asked.

But little Neue made no attempt to look at either parent.

One frantic phone call to Toriel had ended with all three, now four, bundled into Toriel's van and heading back. Which was when they received their bad news.

Neue would likely never see the light of day.

"tor, is there really nothing you can do for her?"

"I'm sorry." She hugged her old friend, and Sans leaned into her, grateful. For a long moment, they remained in the position, before Sans pulled away. He wiped his face on his hoodie.

"i'm sorry, i'm a freaking mess right now."

"Take your time," Toriel said.

"if you think this is bad, wait 'til you see asgore. the big guy's tearing himself up." Sans let out a bitter chuckle, which smoothed into a ragged sigh.

"that's life, i suppose."

Toriel tilted Sans' head up.

"You can't fix what's not broken, my friend."

This startled a laugh out of him.

"And remember, you are not alone. All of us are here to help you and Asgore both."

"aww." Sans leaned into her hand. "speaking of which, i should go talk to him, huh?"

"Please do." Despite their past disagreements, Toriel understood how it must have felt for Asgore. She would not see another family being torn up from the inside.

* * *

It was only many years and one outburst later, that Sans brought up the conversation in the waiting room. Asgore listened, frowning slightly. Sans ducked his head down.

"yeah, that was pretty selfish of me."

"Regardless. Toriel was right. Somehow, she always is."

"can't really argue with that."

Asgore laughed.

"she's a good kid, even if she's a bit of a hothead at times. paps went to keep an eye on her but..."

Asgore sensed the hesitation in his husband's voice, and made his decision for him.

"I'll talk to her."

"really?" Sans asked, before going, "yeah, that's fair, 'sides you both are btter with kids than i am."

Asgore didn't respond to that, already considering how best to smooth things over woth Neue.

* * *

"NEUE?"

Neue jolted at the voice calling her name, before relaxing. It wasn't Asgore or Sans. She hesitantly leaned out of her treehouse.

"Uncle Pap?"

"AH, THERE'S MY FAVOURITE NIECE! I BROUGHT YOU A GIFT, A PEACE OFFERING IF YOU WILL!"

"Thanks." Though she doubted it would be useful to her current situation, Papyrus' aggressive optimism never failed to cheer her up. Plus, knowing him, it was probably a puzzle. She loved puzzles.

Neue opened her palm, face up. Felt him toss something heavy into it.

"I hope it's not a cane."

"NOT A CANE! TAKE ANOTHER GUESS."

She used both hands to feel over it.

"A bone...?"

"GETTING CLOSER!"

She couldn't feel anything different about it beyond it being weirdly heavy and moved to hand it back. However, as she pointed it towards him, it sank, the sudden increase in weight making it difficult to keep her grip on it.

"AH, I MAY HAVE TO READJUST THE MAGIC-"

"It's great."

"YOU THINK SO?"

"I know it."

"THAT'S GOOD, THEN! I WAS WONDERING WHAT VEXED YOU SO, AND CAME TO A CONCLUSION THROUGH MY OWN DEDUCTIVE ABILITIES! YOU MUST BE SAD, BEING UNABLE TO SENSE WHERE YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY ARE. SO I INVENTED THIS TO HELP YOU!"

She appreciated the effort, but that really wasn't-

"Oh, and it'll inform you of any obstacles in your path that aren't as considerate as we are so you can avoid them. Wink."

Neue stared at him, speechless.

"BY THE WAY, SANS IS PROBABLY WORRIED SICK."

Oh, using the immediate-immediate family card against her was unfair, but she had been sitting up here for some time, and the unexpected surprise had more than made up for it. She hopped off the tree, landing safely with the help of blue magic.

Someone was waiting for her on the doorstep. Papyrus gently nudged her forward until she walked into a warm hug.

"Dad, am I really that much of a chore?" she couldn't help but ask Asgore.

"NO!" The response was as loud as it was vehement.

"Neue, listen to me. We love you, and nothing, _nothing_ on this world can change that fact."

"what he said."

"Pops?"

"yeah. hi."

Neue brushed away the stray tears, before hugging Sans.

"we could tell how much the visits kept bugging you, but didn't think too much of it. sorry."

"What, no, you didn't have to-"

"We should have." Asgore cut her off, his tone severe. "Hence, we're stopping the appointments. Unless you'd rather continue?" The last line was added in a softer tone.

Curse her uncooperative eyes! Neue wiped her face, letting the tears soak into her sleeve. She heard a quiet 'egh' and a second later, a box of tissues was shoved at her other hand.

This time, the silence was a comfortable one, Neue enjoying the company of both her parents.

Eventually, she broke it.

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"well, you know, we were sorta talking, and we decided, hey, we should consider this from a _Neue_ standpoint." (Neue ugly-snorted at the pun.)

"You don't fix what's not broken," Asgore stated decisively, and that-

-that made Neue's day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: She's using a spoon because it's more convenient. It may be more effort to make cut spaghetti than to clean up a spill, but that's a sacrifice Papyrus is willing to make for his bestest niece's sake.


End file.
